


19 - Broken Hearts

by VickeyStar



Series: Whumptober 2020 [19]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Juliet Higgins Angst, Juliet Higgins Whump, This is a continuation, Whumptober 2020, injuries, therapy but harsh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickeyStar/pseuds/VickeyStar
Summary: Juliet steps back, stumbling into the wall of the building behind her./What have I done?/Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt
Relationships: Juliet Higgins & Everyone
Series: Whumptober 2020 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946791
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	19 - Broken Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of the 11th prompt for this year, so if you haven't read that one... it'll make less sense?   
> It's not as harsh, though it does give a basic description of some deaths, so if that's a nope for you then it's a nope for you.   
> PLease make sure to read the tags on the 11th fic if you do go to read it, cuz that one's a bit of a dark one.   
> Enjoy?   
>  ~ Sleef/Vic

Juliet steps back, stumbling into the wall of the building behind her.

_What have I done?_

Her mind races as she sinks onto the ground, bloodied hands coming up to cover her mouth as she stares sightlessly at the ground in front of her, mind finally remembering the faces she’d seen.

Thomas, having been beaten and broken down, bit by bit, every day the two had been stuck there.

Rick and TC, being the first to breach the doors and find them, because _of course they were._

Katsumoto, following behind them with police, taking the time to make sure that Thomas’s murderers were captured and arrested, as he went.

All of the cops, following behind at a steady pace as they tried to save the two PI’s lives.

And in return for their heroism?

She’d brutally murdered all of them.

~*~

Juliet hasn’t moved by the time night falls, a patrol car finally coming by after one too many unanswered radio calls.

Two officers exit the car, headlights still on, staring at her.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” One calls out, confused at the sight of her, blood having dried on her skin and clothing.

She doesn’t react, hands hugging her knees to her chest as she ignores them, gaze firmly on the ground.

“Ma’am?”

She can tell the officer is about to reach out and touch her as his partner goes inside the building, likely seeing the carnage that’s inside.

She stands, abruptly holding her hands out in front of her.

“Ma’am, what’s going on?”

His partner comes out, telling him to stop.

“They’re all dead, it’s like a wild animal got loose in there or something.”

She swallows hard, feeling the two men gaze uneasily toward her.

Juliet sniffs, looks the first officer directly in the eye, holds her wrists out in a firmer stance, and speaks.

“I killed them.”

She can tell that the man thinks there’s more to the situation than that, but his partner cuffs her hands behind her back before he can figure out the rest of what’s going on.

She doesn’t protest as she’s roughly shoved into the back of the car, just patiently and politely following directions.

~*~

They have a doctor check her out in the interrogation room, and she doesn’t cooperate so much as sit like a puppet, the doctor giving instructions and her mechanically following them.

“She’s severely dehydrated and malnourished. She’s been beaten, with broken and cracked ribs and a fractured hand. This woman’s clearly in shock, and whatever she did, it was in self-defense.”

The first officer to approach her looks at her, seeming to be considering something, when his partner scoffs.

“Tell that to the two civilians who pushed so damn hard to be part of the case and find them, only to be mauled to death for it.”

Juliet flinches, breathing picking up slightly as her whole body throbs in pain.

She’s put in a holding cell overnight, the officers walking away with talk of a psychiatric assessment in the morning.

Juliet doesn’t sleep, simply sitting still as tears stream down her cheeks until the early hours of the next morning.

~*~

When the officers come to get her, she asks for a phone call.

She’s sure she surprises them, judging by how quickly the partner’s hand lands on his gun holster, but they grant her this.

She hesitates at the phone, before dialing the one phone number that she only ever calls for emergencies or major events.

_“Higgins? What’s going on, it’s been a while since you’ve checked in,”_ Robin Master’s voice comes over the phone.

She stands for a moment, simply absorbing the cheer in his voice as he waits.

_“Juliet? Are you okay?”_

She takes a breath.

“I quit.”

The phone is put back into the nook before he can respond.

~*~

She doesn’t speak again, staring down a therapist before he just puts a pen and paper in front of her, and tells her to write what had happened, that day.

Her eyes narrow slightly, knowing it’s a psychology trick as she picks up the pen and writes one sentence.

**I killed them.**

The man reads it and sighs.

“Who, and how?”

She glances between him and the paper.

**Rick, TC, Katsumoto, the officers who came along, the men who had kidnapped us.**

**I stabbed Rick and TC, shot everyone else.**

Her hand is cramping up, so she puts the pen back down as the man reads her words.

“Why?”

Juliet considers, then shrugs.

She knows the answer, but doesn’t want to say it.

“Instinct, huh.”

Her breathing picks up for half a heartbeat as her eyes widen, staring at the man in front of her as he writes something down in a notebook, himself.

He puts the notebook away, likely having finally decided on a tactic to handle her.

“You were hurt, panicked, and under constant threat. It isn’t surprising that you would lash out to protect yourself. It isn’t your fault.”

She can’t help the scoff, thinking of a thousand ways that the situation could’ve played out better, more than half of them starting with her taking more of the beatings, and Thomas living longer.

“You think they would want this? It says in their files that Thomas Magnum, Theodore Calvin, and Orville Wright were all prisoners of war, themselves. I imagine their rescue wasn’t fun, for anyone involved.”

She doesn’t bother trying to stop the whisper from leaving her lips.

“They escaped.”

The man looks at her, lifting an eyebrow.

She speaks louder.

“They escaped, on their own.”

He hums for a moment.

“Kinda like you did.”

She’s so repelled by the thought that she actively leans away from him.

“I killed my friends. I killed good people. All I did was cause a mess, while they were all working to save me. If I had waited a few more minutes—”

“But you didn’t.”

She stares at him.

“It says here that your two friends had rushed into the room, without properly clearing it and announcing themselves. You, clearly believing them to be a threat, defended yourself.”

She blinks hard.

“No, I attacked them. If I had better control over myself—”

He interrupts her again.

“Nobody would have that much control over themselves, in the condition you were in! Even now, you’re tapping your wrist to hurt your hand, pushing your foot against the ground to feel stabilized, because you’re scared that this truly is real. You’re not in control of yourself, and you _certainly_ weren’t, when you escaped. And above all else, I guarantee you that your friends would _never_ want you to beat yourself up or throw your life away over an accident, or because you were defending yourself.”

She knows that if she could, she’d be crying right now.

The therapist takes a moment to make sure she’s still following along with his logic, making sure she doesn’t have any argument for him to refute.

“Now how about we work on getting your control back, so you can learn to be okay again, alright?”

The thing is, she doesn’t fully believe him on most of what he’s said.

But her fingers are tapping, and her feet are firmly pressed into the ground.

And she knows, in any reality, her friends would never want her to suffer.

So she nods in acceptance.

She’ll let him think he’s helping her, repetitively telling her that it’s not her fault, teaching her coping mechanisms she’s already familiar with.

Hell, maybe one day she actually _will_ believe him.

Only time will tell.

edn


End file.
